The original Crestwood village was a ghost town, in every sense of the word. The few hollowed-out houses that remained stood like skeletons in an otherwise flattened landscape, while spirits floated aimlessly in and out of sight. The downpour had slowed to a light shower, but murky clouds still hung overhead, casting a solid gloom over the entire spectacle.
"These spirits must have come through the rift," Ellethir observed sadly.
"One's looking," Cole pointed. "I'm Cole! Don't be afraid," he called out, heading towards one of the houses. The spirit had quickly lost interest in the newcomers, and was now fruitlessly giving orders to a collapsed iron bed-frame.
"Move, I said!" it said in a stern voice, before whirling around to face Ellethir. "Why does nothing listen?"
"Is it a spirit, or a demon?" Cassandra wondered aloud, and the spirit held up a formless hand.
"Silence! Let this one speak."
Cassandra pursed her lips and looked to Ellethir, who was at a loss. "Uh…Cole, maybe you could explain better?"
"Maybe. My name is—" The spirit abruptly swished away from the group.
"Ugh. Compassion. If I wanted your name, I would command you to tell it. You," it turned again towards Ellethir. "Tell me why nothing here heeds me."
"Well, things like willpower, belief… they don't affect this world in the same way as it does in the Fade," Ellethir attempted to explain.
"That much is plain," the spirit grumbled. "I don't know how you mortals stand it."
"I thought demons wanted to gain access to this world?" Cassandra whispered to Dorian.
The spirit scoffed. "You mistake me for one of those dolts who would suck this world dry? I am called to higher things."
Cassandra eyed it suspiciously. "Such as?"
The spirit stood, or technically hovered, taller. "I lead armies, kingdoms, lords. I am imperial. I am Command."
"If you hate it here so much, why not return to the Fade?" Dorian shrugged.
"I am not so weak as to shy away from a challenge," Command snapped. "I will not be denied. I must have something obey my order!"
"And if we were to offer to obey your order, what would it be?" Fae asked carefully.
"A creature made of rage had the gall to chase me across the lake. I would have it destroyed in my name," it confessed irritably.
"Then it must be somewhere in the area. I will see it done," Ellethir promised.
"Good. Be on your way; the sooner my order is complete, the sooner I can leave this wretched place."
"Was that wise, Inquisitor? Making promises to a creature of the Fade, demon or otherwise?" Cassandra asked after they'd left the house.
"I think so," Ellethir reassured her. "It's a promise we can keep, at least; we'll have to get rid of whatever demons are lurking around this area anyway, if we're going to make Crestwood safe again. And we can start by finding an entrance to the caves. Let's spread out, see what we can find."
Apart from several instances of grisly remains to be collected for Sister Vaughn later, there was little left to be found, until Blackwall managed to break down the jammed door to Mayor Dedrick's old home. Strangely, while the house was by far the most intact out of those that remained, it was sparse of belongings, as opposed to the comparatively lavish décor in his current home. When Blackwall said as much, it raised some amount of confusion.
"Suppose his belongings were swept away by the floodwaters?" Cassandra asked, but Varric shook his head, leading the group outside. He pointed to the base of the house's outer walls.
"See the difference in colour? That's where the water would have reached; it pays well to have the house on the highest ground. And besides, if his shit had been washed away, it would have been out through the windows as well as the door, and the glass is still intact."
"Inquisitor?" Fae called, standing in the doorway waving a letter in her hand. "Listen to this: 'The work you ordered is done, do what you want. I'll be in the hills, trying to forget it.' Signed Robert."
Varric whistled lowly. "And a month later, he hangs himself. Sounds a hell of a lot like a guilty conscience to me."
Ellethir took the letter and read it herself. "Which would mean…"
"It wasn't the darkspawn who flooded Old Crestwood after all," Fae confirmed grimly.
"But why would the mayor do something like that?"
"I guess that's something we can ask him after we prevent the present Crestwood from becoming overrun with the undead."
Cole ran around from behind the house, half-sliding down the slope. "It's at the back, but down!" he said triumphantly. "Humming below us! A window, wanting, wandering. Looking back at what's looking. This way!"
He led them to a door embedded in the rock-face not far behind the mayor's house. Inside, Ellethir felt a now-familiar prickle on the back of her neck that indicated a nearby rift.
"Yes, this is it, I think. Let's go. Careful you don't slip."
Rows of moulding wooden slats sporadically covered the cave floor as they descended deeper in. There were torch sconces nailed into the slick stone walls every few feet, but they were too damp to hold real fire, so after a couple of failed attempts, Ellethir settled for drawing veilfire from them. The pale green glow illuminated the way readily enough, but they also created an undeniably eerie atmosphere, especially as spirits continued to drift idly by every now and again.
They soon came upon a wooden bridge that curved around on itself over and over again as it descended, stopping at a dead end where the cave network opened up into a wider area. Fae had taken the lead through the narrow section that led to this point, but suddenly she stood still, holding a finger to her lips. Straight ahead of the party were three undead corpses huddled around a long-dead campfire, and floating silently above them, a hooded figure no larger than a two-year-old.
"A demon?" Cassandra whispered.
"Despair, I think," Fae whispered back.
"You recognise this one?" Ellethir crept up to get a closer look. "Do you know how to kill it?"
"By thinking happy thoughts, one would assume," Dorian whispered from behind them.
Fae rolled her eyes. "Or with fire."
Dorian rubbed his hands together. "Perfect. That's my specialty. Pardon me, coming through."
One by one, several globules of flame ascended into the air from Dorian's palms. At his direction, they hovered over the forms of the corpses and the demon. "On my signal," he whispered, and clapped his hands together. The balls of flame rushed their targets as fast as arrows from a bow, and made impact. Both the corpses and the demon rose to fight, angry snarls from the former and maniacal cackling from the latter echoing around the chamber as the rest of the party charged in to surround them.
The despair demon flung stakes of ice in every direction until Dorian's fire successfully caught onto its robe, whirling around in circles as it fruitlessly tried to flee from the flames. The corpses, drenched as they were, were more resistant to the fire, so the group settled for hacking and slashing at them until the three figures dropped all at the same time, seemingly of their own accord. The despair demon, or what was left of it, had sunk to the ground, dissolving into a puddle of murky ash.
"That thing must have been puppeteering them all by itself," Dorian reasoned.
"Can demons do that?" Cassandra asked, sheathing her now muck-covered sword.
"Certainly," Vivienne said decisively. "With enough power. And time to practise."
"It must have come through the rift, so it can't have been here that long, could it?" Ellethir muttered between gulps of elfroot elixir.
"You were the one who recognised what manner of demon it was, Fae," Cassandra pointed out. "What do you think?"
Fae didn't respond, staring blankly at Cassandra's stomach.
Cassandra moved closer, but Fae didn't appear to notice. "Fae? Are you feeling alright?"
"Ah. No need to worry Seeker, she's just doing her Seeing… thing," Varric pointed to the mildewed glove clutched in Fae's hand. "Give her a minute."
"Screaming, tearing, roaring. It's so loud, is it the darkspawn? Hold my hand. Fingers squeezing mine too tight, what is that sound? Cold, and then…" Cole paused in his narration, and the glove in Fae's hand slipped out of her grasp. Tears welled in her eyes.
"I don't think that demon came through because of the rift," she said hoarsely. "It came because of all the people trapped here, running from the Blight with nowhere else to go…and no way to avoid drowning when the floods came. So much despair in one place would have weakened the Veil, and drawn that demon in like a lighthouse beacon."
"Perhaps that's why a rift opened here; the Veil was practically already torn." Ellethir guessed.
"You have a great deal of knowledge about the Veil's vulnerabilities for an apostate, Seer," Vivienne acknowledged approvingly.
"I still read," Fae snipped. "And I've seen it happen before. So, can we move on, now? The rift won't close itself."
At the far end of the open area, there was another surviving section of wood-slat bridge leading further down, all the way to a smooth stone floor. Upon reaching this floor, it became clear they were in some kind of partially collapsed hallway, matched on either side with the tell-tale square symmetry of dwarven architecture.
"These are dwarven ruins," Ellethir said in wonder, looking around.
"Of course there are," Varric mumbled. "Can't ruin a day properly without ending up in the fuckin' Deep Roads."
"Does that mean we should be on the look-out for darkspawn?" Vivienne queried, the gem at the top of her staff glowing white. "This is their territory is it not, Ser Blackwall?"
"It is," Blackwall acknowledged, drawing his sword. "But right now, I'm more concerned about that."
He pointed with the sword, where up ahead, an amorphous creature of molten lava and rock trailed past a doorway.
"The 'creature of rage,' I expect. Allow me." Vivienne strode forward, boots clacking on the stone as she raised her staff, its gem glowing vividly now. The brightness succeeded in catching the rage demon's attention. Its 'head' moved slowly towards the mage approaching, and then it opened its mouth and roared, limbs extending unnaturally from its form towards her. A shard of ice sliced off one of these arms, and the appendage sizzled as it fell. In its place, another formed.
The rest of the party closed in behind Vivienne to coordinate the attack, and it snapped and snarled as it tried to take on all of them at once until a final ice spell from Vivienne froze the entire thing solid, held in place with its mouth and limbs wide open and ready to pounce. With one mighty swing of Cassandra's greatsword, it shattered into hundreds of pieces which hissed with steam as they collapsed together.
"The rest of them are ahead," Cole warned. "They don't understand it here. They want to destroy everything. There," he pointed, and disappeared, fast but light footsteps leading around the corner.
The chamber where the rift had opened was already crawling with fully-formed demons and wisps alike, and the rift took a long time for Ellethir to close. Every time the Anchor on her hand was able to make a connection and start the sealing process, she'd be knocked down by something barrelling into her, or she'd find herself leaping out of the way to avoid the spells being fired at her. It took time for Fae to get close enough to cast her arcane ward around the inquisitor, while also keeping track of the other party members, who needed healing spells dealt out faster than she could cast them. Once Fae's shield was in effect, Ellethir thrust her hand out towards the rift, and finally yanked it closed. One last rage demon, much smaller than its predecessors, gurgled as Blackwall withdrew his sword from its gut, and it was over.
"No more demons in the dead," Cole said contentedly. "The people will be safe now."
"From the undead, at least. We can give mayor Dedrick the good news," Ellethir said wearily.
Blackwall huffed. "And, Maker willing, he can give us some answers."
"Right. Back the way we came?"
"There was another door on the other side of the hallway, we could try that for a shortcut."
"Lead the way."
The door led to a series of rooms with great stone tables built into the stone floor itself, but otherwise, it seemed like everything else that might have remained had also been washed away in the floodwaters.
Ellethir's ears twitched. "I feel a breeze," she announced, relieved. "There must be a way out nearby." She led the group through another door into another hallway, where about half a dozen nugs chittered excitedly as they clambered over fallen rocks and collapsed statues. "The nugs seem to like it down here, at least," she observed.
"You know, Leliana used to keep one as a pet," Cassandra smiled.
Ellethir's jaw dropped. "You're joking."
"I am not. What was its name? Schmeeples? Schmupples? It's right on the tip of my tongue."
"Schmooples," Fae corrected her, a proud grin on her face. "Neria's idea. She let me be the one to pick him out of the litter and surprise Leliana. He used to ride along in her satchel, like those old Orlesian ladies who bring their little dogs everywhere in their purses."
"Yes, yes, they're adorable, everywhere and tasty on a grill," Varric began herding the party towards the exit. "Can we please get out of here? My lack of stone sense is grating on me."